Scranton Bets the Future

Scranton had fallen on evil days. Anthracite had once been king in the Lackawanna Valley, but the king was dead. Hard coal diggings had scarred Scranton's hills and undermined its streets; the exhausted mines threatened to cave in the whole economy of the polyglot community among the culm dumps of Northeastern Pennsylvania. Even the war had given Scranton only a cardboard security.

But with the arrival of peace Scranton's 140,000 citizens, unwilling to accept a ghost city in a deserted valley, decided to bet a chunk of solid cash on a new future. Spurred on by civic leader Ralph E. Weeks, president of world-famous International Correspondence Schools, they formed a corporation (The Scranton Plan Inc.), wrote a campaign song (Buy Scranton Bonds), and, on street corners, in barber shops and bars, at luncheons and rallies, began collecting $100 pledges.

Money gushed from unexpected springs. The bantam valley town of Jessup (pop. 6,000) sent the janitor of its four-room schoolhouse into Scranton with $19,000 dug out of attic trunks and sugar bowls. A team of 50 determined housewives left their breakfast dishes in the sink, stuck their feet in front doors until they had raised $300,000. Local 18 of the United Auto Workers (C.I.O.), mostly unemployed, sold $87,000 worth of bonds.

Citizens big & small chipped in: Carmelo Digerlando, 64, a blue-aproned shoemaker whose eyes have grown dim and his hair white since he left Sicily 40 years ago; Judge T. Linus Hoban, a war hero; thrifty, 13-year-old newsboy Harold Kornfeld; live wire Roy Stauffer, Chevrolet dealer. Total number of bond buyers: 3,500.

Wings to Sinks. This week, with high hopes in their hearts and $1,700,000 in their kitty, Scrantonians were co-owners of a gleaming brick and concrete factory. And they had both the money and the plans for others.

Biggest investment was the purchase (for $1,200,000) of a Government-built war plant which had turned out B-29 wings during the war, has been idle ever since. Scranton bought it from the War Assets Corp. and leased it (for $130,000 a year) to its old tenant, Detroit's Murray Corp., for the peacetime output of stoves, kitchen cabinets and sinks.

Before signing a five-year lease, Murray drove a hard bargain: it can break its lease without obligation in the event of labor trouble. Mike Demech, youthful (36), politically-minded (Republican) head of U.A.W.'s Local 18, went along, promptly signed a contract with Murray. In return, Murray will spend $1,500,000 on reconversion, eventually employ 4,000, boost Scranton's income by $8,000,000 a year. For a ghost town, Scranton looked like a pretty lively ghost.